


Deprived

by profanedaisychain



Category: The Soul Stone War - Morgan Vane
Genre: Multi, POV Second Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Tension, Threesome - F/M/M, undefined female mc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:35:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26638201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/profanedaisychain/pseuds/profanedaisychain
Summary: Morkai and Straasa deserve all that you can give them - even if, in the end, it's merely a comforting shoulder.
Relationships: Morkai/MC/Straasa
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	1. Sleep

* * *

It’s colder tonight than you expected it would be. You suppose it isn’t that surprising, though. Your breath became visible mist around nightfall, so it only stood to reason that once you crawled into your tent, you’d be a shivering mess.

 _Straasa’s_ tent. You’ve been using it for so long that it’s become yours in your mind. You suppose you should mention getting a new one when you pass through the next town, but…

There are reasons you haven’t.

Good ones, even.

Like how…

Well… There is your poor mule to think of, first off. Your deconstructed tent was deceptively heavy; giving the old lady another tent to carry would be horribly cruel.

And then there’s the fact that Straasa used to have to set up his tent, Morkai’s, _and_ yours. Taking one of those time-consuming tasks from his shoulders is a kindness!

You pull the blankets up to your chin, letting out a soft breath. The warmth balloons back into your face, smelling like the piece of candied fruit Daelynn gave you after dinner. You smile at that, at the comfort thinking of your companions brings. You try to use that feeling to lull you into oblivion.

You think you might be close to the edge, right on the blade’s tip of sleep, when you hear rustling. Soft words that you can’t make out. You try to ignore it, try to chase that thread of sleep that wafted in front of your face --

But it’s gone. You’re awake, your ears perking up, anxiety flooding your chest. You can’t blame yourself, though - after months of being alone, then being hunted, and then kidnapped, and then attacked by the Lord of All? It’d be astonishing if you didn’t startle at every unexpected noise.

You know there’s nothing out there right now, though - that it’s just the others sharing words. Even so, your brain is racing; your flight-or-fight response is confused now that nothing is happening. The adrenaline spike makes your blood rattle in your veins; your fingers tremble with the force of it.

The voices fade, but you can hear a soft giggle. Daelynn.

You count backwards from ten, focusing on your breath. You tap a rhythmic pulse against your chest, a trick Straasa taught you, and feel yourself beginning to come down. Your limbs slowly become aware that there’s no reason to run. Your body stops twitching with frightened pulses.

You breathe.

A familiar tread comes toward your tent; unlike before, this noise has you relaxing. You go up on an elbow, waiting for the flap to open.

It doesn’t. The tread stops just outside, hesitating.

And then it begins to move away.

With a motion so swift it surprises you, you lunge across the tent to lift the flap. Straasa turns around at the noise, eyes soft and concerned for a moment. “Are you alright?” he asks softly, immediately moving toward you. He crouches and reaches out, smoothing hair from your forehead with a careful touch.

“Is everything alright?” he presses, voice soft and worried. His eyes search your face, his concern slowly fading away when he sees no sign of nightmares.

“I...yes,” you reply, suddenly not sure what you wanted to say.

“Trouble sleeping?” he asks. But it’s less of a question and more of a statement. When you nod, his lips tilt into a sad, sweet smile. “Perhaps…” he trails off for a moment, his sapphire gaze never flickering from yours. He’s studying you. It’s a common enough occurrence, but he seems especially contemplative now.

“Would you come in?” you ask, trying to keep your tone light. You’re just asking for Straasa’s company - you’re not trying to get him onto the bedroll with you for any nefarious reasons. What reasons could you possibly have to get him under the covers with you?

Straasa looks a bit surprised by your request, but not nearly as much as you expected. You suppose it’s all out in the open - how you feel about him. Or, at least, as out-in-the-open as it can be when you haven’t actually said the words yet.

Straasa glances over his shoulder toward the glowing fire. You know Daelynn is out there, taking her place for the nightly watch. Morkai might be there, too, and that makes a part of your chest constrict. But Straasa turns his attention back to you, his soft smile making his eyes shine. “Of course.”

You shuffle back to the bedroll. Straasa waits until you’re settled before following you inside. This tent is larger than yours was, so it isn’t a difficult fit. You sink into the middle of the bedding, forcing Straasa to get closer to you than he might have initially chosen. He’s always careful not to invade your space even though he has to know you don’t mind - quite the opposite.

Straasa’s chuckle makes you grin. He joins you under the blankets, an arm gingerly resting on your waist.

But that isn’t enough. You long for his heat, the smell of him, the sound of his heart thumping. You wiggle closer to Straasa, and the man welcomes you. You tuck your face against his shoulder, and he responds by moulding his body against yours, placing a loving kiss to your forehead.

“Straasa?” you begin, but the man cuts you off with a soft “Rest.”

You close your eyes.

You count backwards from ten.

You let Straasa’s breath lull you to sleep.

* * *

  
You wake with a start. In a nearly immediate response, Straasa runs a gentle hand across your cheekbone and down your jaw, sliding hair from your face. “Is everything alright?” he asks, voice heavy with sleep.

You’re disoriented, unsure what’s happening. And then you realise your hairline is damp and your heart is fluttering. A bad dream - not one with Manerkol, but one that probably made you cry out in your sleep. “Did I yell?” you murmur, voice a little gravelly, throat tight.

“Not loudly,” he assures you, his hand retracing its path across your jaw.

But then the tent flap opens, Morkai peering inside. He glances between the two of you, his expression changing from concern to annoyance. “I thought you were getting kidnapped again, the way you were yowling,” he grumbles. The words are unkind, but his tone doesn’t match.

“Bad dream,” Straasa replies for you, his hand lowering from your jaw. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

Morkai gives a little sound of annoyance. “And leave the elf to watch over us all?”

“You haven’t slept in two days,” Straasa chides.

“Stop worrying about me and concern yourself with the girl,” Morkai snips, making to duck out of the tent.

You don’t want him to go, and you don’t think he wants to, either. There was something in his tone. Something off. It was the usual faux-irritation, the inflection he gives when he is having emotions and doesn’t know how to deal with them. But there was something else there. Longing, perhaps.

Or a sliver of jealousy. For you or for Straasa, you’re not sure.

 _Both,_ you mentally correct yourself. You sit up, meeting Morkai’s green gaze with yours. “Stay?” you whisper - so softly. So gently. He can pretend not to hear you if he wants to - but when his expression softens, you know he won’t.

“Stay,” Straasa repeats - his is louder than yours was, but it's just as sincere.

Morkai turns his attention to Straasa; something in his expression shifts. He leans back a bit, and you think he might bolt. But he doesn’t. He lets out a grieved sigh and pulls his bulk inside the shelter.

The space is plenty big enough for you and Straasa, but the addition of Morkai makes it feel much, much smaller. “Scoot,” Morkai orders, still feigning annoyance.

Straasa willingly slides to his edge of the bedding, but you don’t move over. Instead, you raise challenging brow at Morkai. Straasa chuckles, and you can hear him raise up on an elbow to watch the impending shenanigans.

Once upon a time, before you could admit how much you cared for them, this situation would have resulted in a playful scuffle. Back when you three were just friends, before the three of you wordlessly admitted your affections at the Feast of Pies.

Back then, this situation would have ultimately ended with Morkai threatening to bodily toss you out of the tent and into the cold if you didn’t respect him. There might have been tickling involved, too, if you kept antagonising. Straasa would eventually come to your rescue, subduing his friend with a ponytail tug or a threat to banish him to his lonely tent if he didn’t behave.

But those days are past, and there’s a much different mood to this playfulness. Morkai’s tone drops into a seductive purr when he reaches out to tease a hand at your waist. “You want me as close as you can get me, gorgeous?”

You might have a flush on your cheeks - it’s suddenly very warm in the tent. “You think quite highly of yourself,” you reply, careful to keep your tone composed, slightly bored.

The hand at your waist tightens, gripping, and a very embarrassing noise slips from your throat. Morkai’s eyes sharpen, a predatory smile tilting his mouth. “How can I think anything else when you make such pretty noises for me?”

Before you can reply, the hand on your waist slides to your side, down to the small of your back. And then he flips you over, sending you into Straasa's surprised embrace. While you catch your bearings from the sudden upending, Morkai slides behind you.

Morkai takes his time adjusting, sweeping your hair aside before placing a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. His arm reaches around you, a hand pressing a fond caress to Straasa’s cheek.

You wiggle closer to Morkai your bodies flush, and then tug Straasa against your front. It’s overwhelming having these two surrounding you - it's almost suffocating, really. But if you had to choose a way to drown, it would be this.

You don’t even have time to consider saying goodnight before you slip into sleep.

* * *

You wake up in a different position than you fell asleep in. Straasa is on his back, one arm under his neck and the other stretched out toward Morkai. You’re still on your side, shoved up against Straasa with your head on his chest. It’s not the most comfortable thing, having your soft cheek shoved into the unforgiving jerkin, but you daren’t move.

Morkai is still behind you, but his arm is slung over your hip, hand resting possessively on Straasa’s upper thigh. You feel a tingling deep in your belly that chases your weariness away. Something about that intimate touch makes your insides pulse with little sparks of longing.

It isn’t a good idea to wake them, but you desperately want to. Morkai hasn’t slept in days, and Straasa never sleeps as well as he should. Gods know you don’t, either. You’re all sleep-deprived, and this is the most comfortable you’ve felt in ages.

But that doesn’t convince your body to let go of the radiating heat in your belly.

As if to punish you, Morkai shifts in his sleep. He presses closer to you. The hand on Straasa’s thigh tightens for a moment; Straasa lets out a soft noise in his sleep, reacting without realising why.

But _you_ know why, and it’s driving you mad. You desperately press yourself into Morkai, hoping the motion will wake him enough to…

To what?

Your tactic doesn’t work - Morkai doesn’t wake when you shove your backside against him. His hand flexes again, though, and he lets out a little grumble that makes your insides go to goo. Your slender fingers join his, twining them together on Straasa’s thigh, squeezing.

Somehow he doesn’t react, and that makes you even more desperate. How is he sleeping so well? So deeply? This man is usually the first to respond to any sound, let alone a full-grown woman wiggling against him.

Straasa makes a soft noise, tilting his face toward you and blearily blinking. “Is something wrong?” he asks, always so caring.

To your surprise -and horror- Morkai answers him. “The girl has been rubbing against us for the better part of five minutes, so I’d guess she’s feeling a bit...overwhelmed.”

Morkai!” Straasa reprimands, but you can hear the amusement he’s trying to bury. Even so, he tries to be gentle about how he moves out from under you and Morkai’s hands, apologetic. “I’m sorry Morkai cannot be a gentleman.”

“I don’t think she wants me to be a gentleman right now,” Morkai chuckles darkly, making your insides clench with desire. “Do you, gorgeous?”

“Morkai,” Straasa warns, but his voice wavers.

“Straasa,” Morkai replies with an audible smirk.

Once again, unspoken things are ringing clearer than words. The three of you are at an impasse, frozen together but apart.

You aren’t sure who moves first; all you know is that one moment the men were staring at one another over your head, and the next-

Morkai shoves you toward Straasa at the same time that Straasa moves in. The blue-eyed man dodges your confused flailing to brush his lips against your cheekbone. They shift to the corner of your mouth, whispering your name so reverently. It’s enough to make you lose the ability to think.

You only have to tilt your head to press your lips against his. It’s the smallest motion, and yet it feels like a century before his mouth is moving against yours. You expected to feel something like lightning once you finally made it to this moment, but there isn’t a spark.

There’s a flame, though.

Straasa makes your entire body burn, and all he’s doing is touching your throat and opening his mouth to your tongue’s brusque demand.

And then you have Morkai at your back, nipping the nape of your neck, beard tickling and sending cold shivers along your overheating skin. You arch, breaking contact with Straasa to gasp at the air.

Straasa, usually so gentle, so sweet, gives you an impish smile. And then, he is rolling you onto your back and reaching across you to tug at Morkai’s hair.

You think Morkai might growl at Straasa given the way he glares at the man. But Straasa quirks a brow at him, and Morkai smirks. He lowers his mouth to your ear, whispering, “Well, gorgeous, after all your hard work, you finally have my attention." The words barely register - all you can focus on is his hot breath on your neck and his voice murmuring just for you.

“When you thought I was sleeping,” Morkai continues, mouth pressing into the hinge of your jaw. Your pulse hammers - you’re reasonably sure he can feel it. “When you were trying your damnedest to wake me up,” he chuckles, the sound doing terrible things to your insides. “What did you want me to do?” he presses, a finger tilting your chin, bringing you nose-to-nose with him.

You close the distance between you, unable to help yourself. You expect him to pull away, to chide you, smirk at you, but Morkai is surprisingly kind tonight. His mouth covers yours and, the second your mouth opens, his tongue lavishes yours. He's tireless and demanding - you can just barely keep up.

One of Straasa’s hands roves up your hip to your waist before grabbing Morkai’s bicep. The redhead breaks away from you to look at the hand - and then at Straasa. A silent conversation occurs right in front of your addled eyes. You can’t understand what it is until Morkai reaches out, grabs Straasa around the back of the neck, and pulls him into a bruising kiss.

Your heart thuds in your chest as you watch the men you would die for finally give into one another. You don’t understand how your body can hold so much love and then have it multiply tenfold - but it does when you see them fall into one another.

The pair lose themselves, cradling one another’s faces as if they’d never touched before. But it’s different now, and they are overcome with it. You think you might see the faintest beginning of tears in Morkai’s eyes - but that wouldn’t make sense. Not for Morkai.

When they finally part, it is to press their foreheads together. They stay like that for a few moments before breaking apart to rejoin you. Morkai grumbles something about " _y_ _ou two and your emotional outbursts_ " even though he’s smiling so softly that it makes your heart tremble. He settles to your side, placing a long, firm kiss to your temple.

Straasa doesn’t try to play off what happened, instead reaching across you to fondly poke Morkai’s forehead. “You love it,” he informs the redhead. Morkai grumbles; Straasa smiles.

His goodnight to Morkai done, the dark-skinned man nuzzles a kiss to your cheek before settling back into the blankets. “Sleep well,” he bids you in a whisper against your hair.

“Goodnight,” you murmur to both of them.

Straasa is the first to rest his hand on your stomach, but Morkai’s joins soon after. Their fingers curl together, forming a protective and comforting barrier between you and everything else.

Maybe you can actually sleep easy tonight.

* * *


	2. Heat

* * *

  
The inn is small, much like the village it nestles in, but it’s warm, dry, and clean. After a day travelling in the drizzling rain -and a second day deep in the woods to protect yourselves from a passing thunderstorm- the inn feels like bliss. There’s a roaring fire in the hearth right as you enter, and the proprietress is quick to call for mulled wine when she sees the state of your little party.

“Goodness, I hope you lot plan on staying for the night,” she says with a raised brow and a frown when she watches all of you muddy the worn-but-clean flooring. “You look fit to drown.”

“And we feel it,” Straasa says with his warm smile, the skin around his eyes crinkling pleasantly. “We would like a couple of rooms for the night.”

Before the proprietress can ask anything more, a serving boy comes around with four mugs of spiced, steaming wine. You jolt forward with the most energy you’ve shown in three days, grabbing one of the cups with no thoughts of decorum.

You vaguely think you hear Daelynn and Straasa laugh -kindly- at your enthusiasm. You know that you hear Morkai snicker. But you don’t care because you have the best mulled wine you’ve ever had heating your tongue. It’s the taste of finally having a moment of comfort - the taste of clove and orange and a dozen notes that you’re too exhausted to identify.

By the time you come to your senses enough, you find that the serving boy has taken your packs for you, and Morkai is the only one still by your side. Daelynn and Straasa have moved to the front desk with the proprietress, no doubt settling the room and dinner fees. Morkai is looking around the room, no doubt glaring at anyone who bothers to stare a little too long. 

But then his attention falls to you. You’re still buried in your mug, sipping the last dregs of your drink, letting the remaining heat caress your face and thaw your nose. You try to ignore the intensity of his stare, but it’s going about as well as it usually does.

To your surprise, Morkai doesn’t speak - he simply holds out his mug, only half-drunk, as an offering. You finish yours and swap with him. That makes him chuckle darkly, and you realise that his silent kindness was just another trap so he can be an ass.

“I am beginning to wonder if you have a drinking problem, the way you act whenever wine comes around.”

“I’m cold and miserable,” you reply, a little more tart than you know you should. Tart just means he’ll keep pressing, keep instigating. “And this is wonderful.”

“Too much cinnamon,” he says, reminding you that he definitely comes from some form of money. That he’s used to the best of everything. 

That he’s a bit of a twat.

You give him a narrowed glare, but that only makes his smirk widen. “Don’t drink too much,” he says, dropping his voice just a little. “This is the first time we’ve had a chance to relax, and I’d hate for you to be too drunk for the three of us to enjoy ourselves tonight.”

You splutter, nearly choking on a mouthful of wine. Straasa, Daelynn, and the proprietress all look round to see what the commotion is. You know what they see - Morkai with a shit-eating grin and you coughing your lungs onto the floor.

“Are you alright, sweetness?” Daelynn calls, sounding amused. She knows Morkai’s tactic of unsettling you anytime you’re away from the others. She knows exactly what your current predicament is, and it isn’t overenthusiasm for wine.

You wave you hand in wordless acknowledgement, trying to stifle your coughs and burning throat. Straasa is still watching Morkai with an exasperated expression, a silent plea in his eyes to _please behave_. Morkai snorts but doesn’t say anything else, instead wandering toward the fire and leaving you to your embarrassed misery. 

By the time you’ve composed yourself, Straasa and Daelynn have finished with whatever conversation they were having with the proprietress. Straasa goes to Morkai’s side, murmuring something in an undertone. Both men’s eyes turn toward you, pinning you in place. Morkai looks annoyed, and you shrink back a little. 

You’re pretty sure you’ll never understand the man-child’s moods, so you turn your attention to Straasa. He offers you that smile that warms you to your core -- and then he walks toward you, past you, and outside.

You know your face is betraying your confusion because Morkai, mood as changing as the ocean, chuckles as he walks by. He flicks your nose as he passes, just to add insult to injury, and then he, too, leaves through the front.

“What-” you start to ask Daelynn, but she is taking your mug from your fingers, putting it on an empty table.

“There are bathing rooms,” she helpfully informs you. “Come on now.”

Daelynn is much stronger than she seems to realise, nearly jostling your arm from its socket. But you don’t really notice the pain because there are _bathing rooms_ and you’re about to have your first real wash in weeks.

Outside, you manage to avoid the muck by sticking close to the building, following a wooden walkway that wraps around it. At the back, nestled between trees and a path leading to the stable, are the bathing rooms.

Daelynn ushers you into the one marked for women, bustling around as if she was paid to care for you. She gets you undressed -without asking permission, but you don’t really mind because _there are actual bars of proper soap-_ and into the closest tub.

Daelynn washes your back and your hair, taking care to work a comb through the locks, teasing out all of the tangles and removing long-stuck leaf fragments. She cheekily offers to help you with the rest of your bath, but you’re used to her flirtatious teasings. They’ve become even less sincere since you, Morkai, and Straasa became…

What? What did you become? Is there even a term?

You turn around in your basin to see Daelynn sinking into the second, her soft, flawless body disappearing below the surface. “Daelynn…” you begin, hesitant.

“Yes, pretty eyes?” she asks, not bothering to look up from where she is running a bar of heather-scented soap across one of her arms.

“Can I...tell you something?”

“Anything,” she replies without a single hesitation.

You struggle to come up with the words you want, heavily exhaling. Arms draping over the edge of the tub, chin resting atop them, you watch Daelynn. “I’m in love with them” you settle on.

Daelynn does glance up now, pretty face tugging into a frown. “And?”

You open your mouth. And then you close it. You hesitate. “And nothing. I love them. Both of them.”

You are surprised to see Daelynn’s lips smirk at you instead of pulling into a sympathetic frown. “Well of course you do.” You gape at her; she goes back to washing, switching to her other arm. “It’s rather obvious.”

“But I -- _how_?”

Daelynn quirks a brow without looking at you. “Your face is an open book, I’m afraid. You’ll have to work on that in the future, but we have more trying problems than your inability to stop blushing when they are nearby.”

You’re relatively sure you’re blushing right now - given Daelynn’s little smirk, you’re right.

“Help me with my hair?” Daelynn asks, turning around so you can reach across the small space between your tubs, returning the favour for your unflappable elf.  
  


* * *

  
The dinner is ready when you finally pull yourselves out of the basins. The serving boy left your packs in the washroom for you, so you are actually able to change into fresh-ish clothes that don’t smell like a wet mule. 

The inside of the inn is once again spotless with no sign of mud tracked around. Straasa and Morkai are already seated and eating, but both of their attention turns to the door when it opens. 

There is always a hint of concern, a bit of wariness, on the men’s faces when a door opens. You’ve seen it over and over again, and you’re sure they’ve seen it on your face, too. That fear. The same fear everyone who has ever been hunted gets.

But it’s just you and Daelynn, so they relax almost as quickly as they tensed. Straasa, in fact, softens so much that it’s like watching him become five years younger. Morkai, on the other hand, is smirking at you.

“Look at that, there _was_ a face under all of that mess,” Morkai says, unkind as ever when he looks at you. His eyes don’t carry the same sharpness, though.

Straasa doesn’t bother shushing Morkai, instead turning his pleased - _fr_ _esh, glowing, beautiful_ \- face between you and Daelynn. “You both look more relaxed than I have ever seen you.”

“I’m always relaxed,” Daelynn teases _-lies-_ with a little wink, reaching for the pitcher of wine and pouring herself a mug.

“Too relaxed,” Morkai adds in a grumble, seeming a little off-put that you didn’t bother to rise to his taunt. But you’re too warm, happy, and hungry to care about his fickleness.

Every other concern you have can wait until after dinner.  
  


* * *

  
The concerns are quick to rise mid-dinner, though, leaving your hands a little shaky. The culprit for this unease, quite remarkably, isn’t Morkai. It’s Straasa.

You know Straasa has his moments of boldness. That his sweet smile and his concern for your comfort hide a much more assertive demeanour. And he’s beginning to be more comfortable with you - enough so that you’re starting to see the less reserved side of him.

And feel the less reserved side, seeing as his freshly-cleaned boot has found yours under the table, the toe of it gently nuzzling at your ankle.

“Something wrong, girl?”

You’re flushing, aren’t you? Of course you are. Gods damn these two. “Nothing,” you lie, reaching for the pitcher of wine for a third glass. 

But Morkai has other ideas, grabbing the pitcher and pushing it toward Daelynn. “We wouldn’t want you getting drunk tonight, would we, Straasa?”

Oh dear Gods above, what did you do to deserve this? Straasa seems to be just as mortified because he sputters an appalled “ _Morkai!_ ” with enough force to make the serving boy come over. 

“Everything is fine, I apologise,” Straasa assures him. 

“Too much wine,” Morkai says, handing he pitcher to the boy. “This lot can’t handle themselves around it.”

Daelynn has been very quiet, so you assume she’s grinning madly into her food, just barely keeping her comments to herself. You’re proud of her restraint, but you also worry that holding it in _now_ means she’ll be insufferable tomorrow.

But that’s a problem for tomorrow. Tonight’s problem is that you have two men watching you as you push food around your plate - one blatantly, unabashedly; one softly, sweetly.

Life has a million different forms of torture.

* * *


	3. Touch

* * *

The four of you head up the stairs together. According to Daelynn, the proprietress was led to believe that you and the elf would be sharing a room - she’s a ‘Gods fearing woman,’ after all, and wouldn’t care for the real sleeping situation. This amuses Daelynn to no end, but she’s still keeping her lips tightly closed around her teasing.

Until you reach her room’s door, however, when she lets out a little sigh of contentment. “I am going to sleep for a million years.” And then she smirks, leaning toward you to faux-whisper, “Good luck in there, pretty eyes. Try to keep it down so that the lady of the house doesn’t throw us all out, okay?”

“Daelynn!” Straasa snaps, but Morkai’s laugh is too loud and masks the blue-eyed man’s admonishment. 

Daelynn blows your group a kiss before slipping into the room, leaving the three of you alone on the landing.

Morkai goes ahead of you, opening the door further down the hall and sauntering inside. Straasa, at your elbow, clears his throat. “Shall we?” he asks. And then, when you don’t move, he hesitates. “If you would rather room with Daelynn-”

“You know that isn’t the case,” you mumble, giving him an awkward smile. You appreciate that he cares enough to be a gentleman, but it’s becoming increasingly distressing. He knows how you feel, and each time he second-guesses it, it makes you more anxious, less sure.

Straasa’s expression softens; he pulls you into his arms, the hug engulfing you in the heather-scented soap. You think he might say something nice, something that attempts to put you at ease, but he remains quiet. You appreciate that more than he can know.

And then the peace is interrupted when Morkai peeks into the hallway with an exasperated sigh. “Can we hurry this along, then?”

Straasa sighs against your hair, places a gentle kiss to your forehead, and then pulls away. You both follow Morkai into the room. 

The door closes.

You baulk.

The last time you were in a situation like this, the three of you were dressed in your leathers, exhausted, and in varying degrees of drunkenness. It was easy then; without a thought, without hesitation, you helped the men with their outers -and they with yours- and curled into sleep. It was simple.

But now, the three of you are quite awake, clean, and already in your soft tunics and breeches. There’s no armour to fiddle with, no toggles to unbunch - just each other.

Morkai doesn’t seem to sense the tension - he’s wandered to the small fireplace in the corner, stoking the logs and making sparks erupt. But Straasa’s eyes are on you - you can feel them, warm, heavy, and happy.

This is absurd.

You turn to Straasa - his expression shifts to one of concern. You only then realise that the resolve making your limbs move has manifested into a scowl on your face. 

“Is everything-”

You cross the space between you, grabbing a loc and tugging it a little harder than usual. Straasa lowers his face to yours in response, and your lips cover his. 

Your arms sling around his neck, breath catching in your throat, and Straasa’s hands go to your waist. He pulls you tightly against him, fingers spreading on your lower back, bracing you. You’re glad he does because your knees are feeling a bit weak, to be honest. 

One hand leaves your waist to slide through your hair, for once not catching in tangles. It slides down your throat, wrapping around the back of your neck to keep you in place. The kiss deepens, Straasa’s tongue dutifully slipping into your mouth when you open it for him.

You break free when you hear the bed creak from the other side of the room. Panting, trying to catch your breath and your bearings, your eyes find Morkai watching the pair of you. He’s settled on the bed, backed up against the headboard, arms crossed behind his head. 

He’s smirking at you, the ass. 

“Don’t stop on my account,” he calls, sounding sincere.

‘I didn’t plan to,” Straasa replies: his voice is low and against your ear, making your head swim again. If you don’t get on the bed soon, he might need to carry you there. As it is, your knees are about the consistency of nearly-set pudding.

Straasa doesn’t ask you if you are ready for another kiss - you’re glad he doesn’t, too, because the thrill that shoots through your abdomen when his mouth takes yours without permission… It’s sudden and all-consuming. It forces an embarrassing noise tear itself from your throat.

You tense, ready for Morkai to tease you, but Morkai is silent. Straasa notices, too, but doesn’t pull away from you. Instead, he lowers his mouth to your neck, drawing his lips across your jugular. “Perhaps we should take mercy on Morkai?”

“Perhaps,” is your soft response. It takes a real effort to pull away from the man, but he keeps hold of your hand, leading you toward Morkai. Morkai watches - his smirk is gone, replaced with something much softer. Something that makes your heart flutter.

Straasa stops beside the bed, urging you onto it. But before he joins you both, he leans in to place a gentle, soothing kiss to Morkai’s mouth. The redhead doesn't resist like you think he might - a hand reaches up to tangle in Straasa's locs, pulling him in, refusing to let him go.

You watch the pair, the heat in your belly turning from affectionate to envious when Straasa's tongue caresses across Morkai's mouth, between his lips, drinking him in. Morkai makes a sharp noise, hand releasing Straasa's locs in favour of grabbing the man, tugging him onto the bed, onto his lap, wrapped up in his arms.

Straasa's moan is gentle, a rumble that makes your insides shiver. You're about to move toward them, unable to stay away, when Morkai reaches out to you. He breaks free from Straasa, green gaze staring at you, waiting. Straasa turns, as well, cheek pressing against Morkai's chest, his soft smile just for you.

You fumble your way across the mattress, knees getting tripped up in the bedding. They pull you in - Straasa at your throat, the hollow of your neck, shoving your collar out of his mouth’s hungry path. Morkai's lips steal yours, teeth nipping, tongue soothing the hurt right after.

Straasa pulls back, an annoyed look flashing over his features when your neckline gets in his way again. “May I?” he manages to say before yanking it over your head. You barely have the time to accept before he’s tugging it off, tossing it away, and dipping back to your clavicle.

Morkai wiggles out of his own shirt before you can even think to help him with it, grunting when it tugs his ponytail. But he’s single-minded in his determination - his mouth is on yours again, a hand going to your breastband. You think he might start the fumbling process of removing it, but instead, he cups you through the material, palm expertly massaging. He elicits an electric tingle, your nipple straining through the thin cotton in response. You gasp into his mouth, but he swallows the noise, hungrily overtaking your tongue. 

You jolt away from him, though, when Straasa’s mouth reaches your breastband. He takes a momentary break to nuzzle against Morkai’s hand, tongue flicking a short line across the inside of his wrist. Morkai’s groan grumbles from deep in his chest - Straasa mimics the noise, shivering slightly. 

“Wait,” you whisper, just barely managing to get the word out. Both men stop moving, but neither pull away. You’re pleased with that - they must be starting to understand your meanings through your tone, not just your words. “You’re both overdressed.”

Morkai snorts, leaning back against the headboard as if waiting for you to remedy that situation. What he actually does is give you an uninterrupted view of his bare chest. You’ve seen it before -you’ve travelled together long enough, after all- but never this close. Never this intimately.

He has scars. Some are old, but most are newer, pearly in the hearth’s flickering light. You want to trace them with your hands, your mouth, map every inch of him until you can find those marks with your eyes closed. 

The desire leaves you a little breathless - Straasa takes advantage of this; he reaches for your breeches, hands beginning the process of unlacing them. You think about swatting his hand away -he’s still fully dressed, the cheater- but Morkai beats you to it. The redhead reaches out to him, yanking the tunic up and off. Straasa yelps a little, his locs getting caught up in the fray, but Morkai doesn’t take pity. Once the shirt is out of the way, his big hands reach out to his blue-eyed lover, starting on his laces. 

Straasa falters in his attention on your pants, and you take the opportunity to pull free from him, leaning down to Morkai, peppering kisses from his shoulder to his pectoral. A tentative, curious lick to his nipple produces a surprising response - a grunting groan and a hip-roll, bucking himself against Straasa. The dark-skinned man moans, and the sound of it sends shivers down your spine.

The three of you pull free from one another, pretences lost, everyone too anxious to feel skin-on-skin to keep teasing. Straasa gets off of the bed to pull his things off, only returning to remove Morkai’s breeches and underthings. The redhead is already half-erect, his eyes dark and hooded when he pulls Straasa down onto the bed with you. 

You’ve just barely managed to get free of your own trappings when Straasa’s hands find you. He's on his side, pulling you into his arms, holding you against him, mouth reverently covering yours. Fingertips caress along your spine and down, feathering at your lower back. You shiver and curl closer to Straasa, feeling him stiffening against your belly. 

You register the fact that Morkai is reaching over Straasa’s hip. His fingertips grip into your calf, guiding your leg over Straasa’s hip, giving the man access if you want it. 

And you want it. 

You shift, swivelling your hips, rubbing yourself against his cock. You think you might be panting, or moaning...or both? Dear Gods, do you really sound that obscene? Oh, Gods, what must they think about all of this?

Straasa shows you what he thinks about it, reaching down to bump his way between your legs. He pauses when his tip teases your entrance, making soft swipes against the wet heat. 

You’re about to lose your mind if he doesn’t -

He pushes inside with a quick snap of his hips, tearing a started yelp from your mouth. You press into him as close as you can, chest-to-chest, mouth latching onto his. You know you’re clinging, that your arms are hooked around his neck in what must be a painful way. But Straasa seems to love it, rocking into you with more force than you expect. 

You can feel Morkai at Straasa’s back. You can hear him trailing open-mouthed, wet kisses along the man’s shoulders. Your hand manages to snag his hair, the silken tresses tangling in your frantic fingers. 

And then Morkai pulls free from your grip; he grabs Straasa’s hip, growling, “Move over.”

Straasa grumbles -good-naturedly...you think- and slides himself out of you. You don’t have time to complain about this, though; once Straasa is on his back, Morkai’s head ducks down, mouth taking the slick cock into his mouth.

You think you might pass out - the expression on Straasa’s face is one of wonder and lust as he watches Morkai take control of him. Morkai doesn’t seem to have an issue with Straasa’s size - he barely even grunts when Straasa can’t hold back from bucking into his mouth.

But then he’s breaking free and reaching for you. He guides you into place above Straasa. The blue-eyed man is thrusting into you once more, pace harder than before, blunt nails digging into the soft skin of your hips.

Morkai’s mouth finds every bit of your skin that he can reach. Your neck and shoulders take the brunt of his kisses. He leaves a love-bite on the side of your breast before crossing to your nipple. You jolt, thrusting your pelvis into Straasa, matching his thrust in such a way that it makes you momentarily blind. You gasp into the air, your body fit to burst -

And then it does. Morkai’s teeth gently nip your areola before sucking at your nipple again. You whine as the orgasm takes you, making your legs shake. Your arms go weak; you wind up chest-to-chest with Straasa, sobbing your moans into his throat.

It’s too much - the sensations are making your head swim. You think you might pass out if they don’t give you a moment, just a moment to catch you bearings -- 

Morkai either hears your thoughts, or his selfish side rears its head. He moves you off of the wild-eyed, panting Straasa. 

“Take a breather, gorgeous,” Morkai bids you with a sadistic little wink. And then his mouth returns to Straasa’s cock - Straasa whimpers, head flung back, eyes closed and mouth parted. One of his dark hands slides across Morkai’s head, tangling in his ponytail.

You watch, fascinated. Morkai takes every inch of Straasa and doesn’t show a single sign of slowing down. You’d be jealous if you weren’t so damn impressed. 

And turned on.

Straasa’s breathing gets erratic - his fingers are fisting Morkai’s hair as if he’s trying to tear it free. Morkai grunts - that one sound, the vibration of it, sends Straasa over the edge. He gasps as if he can’t catch a breath. And then he seizes, knuckles white from how hard he is holding Morkai’s hair.

He shouts out an expletive, hips jerking helplessly as he comes. Morkai swallows each pulse.

Straasa is a trembling mess, blinking at the ceiling in seeming confusion. While Morkai continues to suck -gently now, cleaning up Straasa’s mess- you move in to kiss the blue-eyed man. He gratefully accepts the affection but slows you down, keeping you from stealing all of his air at once.

Morkai breaks free from Straasa, licking his lips and looking quite pleased with himself. He settles himself against the headboard again, watching you with a wolfish expression. “Are you ready for the second round, gorgeous?”

You try to think of something sassy to say - you really, really do. But instead of saying something, you stumble over Straasa’s legs to climb onto Morkai’s lap. You kiss him, tasting Straasa. Groaning into his mouth, you helplessly rub yourself across his length, coaxing him to attention.

Straasa has recovered himself somewhat and has turned onto his side to press against both of you. One of his hands leisurely slides across the back of your thigh, inward, and then up. You jolt when two fingers gently worm themselves inside of you.

“You’ve had your turn,” Morkai grumbles without any heat when he realises what is happening. But Morkai hardly minds because, while two of Straasa’s fingers are inside you, his hand gently rubs the base of Morkai’s cock.

“If your mouth can chastise me, then it’s ignoring our lover,” Straasa replies.

You think Morkai might say something in response, but he seems to take Straasa’s words to heart. He tugs you down, mouth dominating yours. 

Straasa pulls his fingers free from you - you let out a keening noise, and Morkai laughs darkly in response. Straasa takes Morkai’s cock in hand, guiding him to you. 

And then Morkai is inside of you. His thrusts aren’t nearly as frantic as Straasa’s had been, but his mouth makes up for that. He demands everything from your tongue, insists that it keep up with him. 

But then he suddenly yelps into your mouth, making you start and pull free. “I’m sorry?” you try, confused.

Straasa chuckles at your side. “Apologies...that was my fault.”

You glance over at Straasa, only then realising that the fingers he had inside of you slid lower, caressing between Morkai’s thighs. Morkai bucks a little, looking both uncomfortable and horribly turned on. 

“May I?” Straasa asks against Morkai’s shoulder. You can feel it now; Straasa’s wet finger is making soothing, gentle circles at Morkai’s backside.

Morkai swallows but doesn’t say a word. He turns his face toward Straasa, pressing an aggressive kiss to his mouth.

Straasa’s hand moves, just a bit, and then Morkai grunts into his mouth. You watch, waiting, allowing them to adjust themselves to the situation. It’s difficult not to swivel your hips, not to rut yourself against Morkai with all of the fury that the past two months of hardship created.

Morkai and Straasa find their rhythm, and you join it. You mirror Straasa’s hand, moving as one. Morkai is nearly beside himself - gasping, one hand gripping Straasa’s locs and the other vicing against your hip. That hand, though, abruptly shoves between your bodies, calloused thumb finding your clit.

You whimper; he steals it from you with a kiss. The digit presses in, using the motion of your own rocking to caress you. It sends jolts of electricity flowing through your body, through every nerve and fibre.

It doesn’t take long for you to gasp another shuddering orgasm into Morkai’s neck, twitching and overwhelmed, closer to passing out than staying awake. 

“Shit,” Morkai curses, sudden and vehement. His voice stammers when he begs _-begs-_ Straasa “ _like that, just like that."_ You watch, transfixed, as Morkai chases his own release. He bites his lower lip, green eyes blown wide, unseeing in spite of staring right at you. 

The hand between you moves down. Morkai grabs himself and pulls out of you, wheezing out a cry as he comes. You feel each spurt as it hits your abdomens, making more of a mess than you thought possible. 

Morkai is a shuddering pile beneath you. You stay there, admiring how overwhelmed he looks. 

And then his bewildered gaze meets yours. And he smiles. Soft - and a little silly if you’re being honest. Beautiful.

You lean forward to press a gentle kiss to his lips. You don’t pull away for a long time, enjoying your shared breaths and the press of your skin.

Morkai catches his breath and you, trembling and weak-limbed, slide off of him and roll onto your back. Straasa is moving around the room, cleaning up, but returns to you promptly after. He wipes the mess on you and Morkai away with a damp cloth before joining you. Against your back, Straasa kisses your neck in a silent goodnight. At your front, Morkai is already dozing. 

You press your face into Morkai’s chest and entwine your fingers with Straasa’s on the redhead’s hip. You don’t say anything - you don’t need to.

Talk is for tomorrow.

* * *


End file.
